Caregivers find out what dementia feels like

Sensitivity training helps those caring for the confused

The able-minded participants start in a small room where they lose their faculties one at a time.

They put on dark glasses that impair their vision, headphones that bombard them with chaotic noise, thick gloves that make manipulating small items nearly impossible and shoe inserts designed to inflict chronic, if mild, discomfort.

Then, on this recent afternoon, in groups of two and three, they are led into a dimly lit room.

Welcome to dementia.

The participants work for Consulate Health Care, the state's largest provider of senior health care, and one of the largest in the nation. The Maitland-based company, which specializes in caring for patients with Alzheimer's disease and dementia, is rolling out sensitivity training for employees starting in Central Florida, where the company has 37 centers.

Mia Manni, who manages clinical outcomes for the company, said this was the third time the company has held the virtual-dementia training, which it plans to expand to centers nationwide.

"Those caring for patients or loved ones who have dementia need to understand the challenges this population faces," she said.

"Dementia is progressive," she said. "We can't make it better, but we can make it easier."

Inside the dim room, the newly impaired confront a pile of laundry, a deck of cards, some loose change, a pen, a rack of hanging clothes, a water pitcher and plastic cups. There, they are asked to do several simple tasks that are hard to understand, and even harder to complete.

Put on the white shawl. Count out 27 cents in change. Slip the belt through the belt loops. Fold some laundry. Draw a picture. Most don't finish more than one or two of the chores before giving up.

Participants used words such as "lost," "useless," "upset," "scared," and "helpless" after their 10-minute date with dementia. When asked what would have helped, more light, less noise, a little assistance, and a clear voice top the list.

"I want to go back in and see what I was supposed to be doing," said Dan Malkos, who handles medical contracts for the company, as he gladly stripped off his impediments.

Claudia Kalleson, who works in the company's technology department and whose grandmother has dementia, said "I understand what it feels like now, and how doing just the smallest thing feels like a big accomplishment.''

The takeaways are useful for anyone dealing with a loved one who has dementia, said Manni, who has observed that participants in the room behave the same way that those who have actual dementia behave.

"They pace, withdraw, follow the person next to them, and hoard items in case they need them. Some curse," she said.